


Beautiful

by Lost_Muse



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Community: HPFT, Complete, Dark, Drama, Internal Monologue, Minor Violence, One Shot, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 12:20:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7103125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lost_Muse/pseuds/Lost_Muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So young, and yet so old.</p><p>A Dominique Weasley one-shot; complete.</p><p>[Written for the Every Word Counts challenge]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautiful

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_Incredible banner by callisto @ TDA!_

 

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The sun is a vivid red this evening. You watch it set with burning eyes. The clock is ticking. Soon, the moon will be full and you will be a monster. You can feel the clench of your stomach, the tingling in your bones, the thump of your racing heart, and the time draws near.

The silence screams in your ears, the solitude crowds your mind, as the beast lays waiting to claw its way out. Another full moon and you’re alone. You should have gotten used to it by now. Month by month, year by year, it is the same. It has always been the same.

You touch the smooth wood of the cabin wall, the scent of pine infiltrating your senses. Crashing water gushes far into the distance, and the whistle of the wind is noise nestled in the neighbouring hood of trees.

You hear it all and you don’t blink. A ripple of pain but you are numb. Or that’s what you tell yourself as you watch eyes of blue stare back at you from the window. Your long tresses, which were once a dark shade of red, are streaked with grey. The lines that mar your face appear distorted in the reflection; as distorted as you. So young, and yet so old.

A crow caws into the darkening night, masking the gasp that escapes your chapped lips. Your insides are burning and you want nothing more than to shatter the glass in front of you. You turn away, walking to the other side of the barren room.

Barren except for a lone frame hanging on the yellowed wall. Your eyes inadvertently fall on it. There is a beautiful girl in the picture, unmarked and untainted. She whispers something to the boy standing next to her, red in the face. He laughs, and his hair transforms into a shade of pink. You watch the action, again and again and again, transfixed. That laughter; you have not heard it in a decade and yet it rings in your ears. That face; you haven’t seen it in a decade and yet it swims in front of your eyes.

Has it really been only ten years? You don’t know. It feels like a thousand.

But you do know.

You have counted every moment, every hour, every day. You have counted and writhed in torment; hearing and watching and feeling as pain rips apart the fragments of your being, as shards of ice pierce your bleeding heart, as smouldering fire burns down the remnants of your soul. You have counted it all.

A bitter smile spreads across your lips and a million memories race through your mind. Memories of a time when you were just you, when the monster hadn’t taken control, when the moon was just a moon, and the world was a beautiful place.

You laugh; beautiful. It is a strange word.

You were beautiful once - the beautiful Dominique Weasley. And you are beautiful today - a beautiful chained monster.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Written for the Every Word Counts challenge. Exactly 500 words. I am always a little nervous when it comes to writing second person. So, thoughts?


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